


Far

by bisexualreina



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Mother-Son Relationship, Moving, New Family, Post Season 2, otis moves upstairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:29:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualreina/pseuds/bisexualreina
Summary: Otis moves into the attic to make things easier
Relationships: Jean Milburn/Jakob Nyman, implied
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Far

The attic was farther than Jean had expected and this moment was coming sooner than she had ever imagined. She quietly helped pack her son’s things into cardboard boxes and forced herself into a struggled silence, fighting the ever present lump in her throat, she knew rationally that this was nothing to be upset about, that he was just moving up to the attic. 

He needed more space, _they_ all needed more space, especially with their expanding family and the need for a room with pale pink walls, soft carpets to cover the drafty wooden floors, and a close vicinity to the master bedroom once she grew a bit and was able to transition out of the small cot that sat in the corner of Jean’s room in need of assembly.

He had been the one to offer, taking her by surprise once she had entered her twentieth week, and discussions about moving or expanding began, he said it was a simple fix, temporary until he moved to _college_ , a thought she didn’t even want to entertain for the time being.

He had been fine, to him this was just a room, but to Jean this was much more than four walls and a door. Like this little one would be, he was brought home to this room, she had watched his little chest rise and fall anxiously as a new parent. Fevers were soothed, nightmares were chased, and eventually she blinked and he had grown into a man, in need of something bigger.

The dresser was mostly done and she carefully slid the box towards the door, beginning on the closet while Otis lifted the heavy cardboard and made his way towards the second staircase, climbing it for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. She sighed and opened his closet which for the most part was pretty bare, just a few coats and space for storage, her breath catching as she looked onto the top shelf, old bins sitting and collecting dust in the corner.

She reached high onto her toes, gripping the box with both hands before slowly lowering it to the ground, crouching over it before pulling the dusty lid off of it. She could then recall clearly what she had packed away, the contents revealing themselves to be soft yellow blankets, another one the color of the sky. A raggedy bunny rabbit stuffed animal was tenderly cocooned amongst the blankets, her son’s prized possession up until his eighth birthday when he promptly announced that only babies had stuffed toys, and she tearfully packed it away for safe keeping, unwilling to part with it.

She could hear the sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs so she hastily returned everything to their spot and slid the box back onto the shelf, resuming her task of pulling the coats and hangers and tossing them into the box. There was a slight knock at the door, making her jump and swiftly blink any remaining moisture away from her eyes, she would not cry yet, her son was just going upstairs.

She turned and smiled widely at motioned for him to grab the box, the both of them marveling at how bare the room truly was without his touch, the added pieces of his character now moved, leaving it ready for it’s new inhabitant. She wanted to take it in, to sob painfully until she felt better, but she decided against it, settling for a shaky breath as she caught one last glance of it, her hands settling down to her tiny pop in her figure.

Otis could feel it, his mother wore her heart on her sleeve no matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise. He watched as she took a glance at the room before looking over at him momentarily. He could tell there was so much she wanted to do and say to him to try and commemorate what she considered to be a monumental moment, but to his surprise she just remained silent, stepping out of the bedroom and closing the door with a thud.

He then blinked and realized that the sun was setting, telling him that he would probably find her downstairs rummaging through the pantry like he normally did around dinner time, but to his surprise he found her leaning over the stove top with a pan, toasting a sandwich with a tiny pot beside it heating up some soup.

“Hungry, darling?” She asked easily, sensing his presence before he even said anything, he shook his head and watched as she gathered what she wanted and settled into her seat at the table.

He noticed the way her eyes would shift to her phone every few minutes, as if she was expecting something to happen, an explosion, a scream, a ghost, but the screen just stayed black. He knew what she was waiting for, as much as she might hate to admit it, she wanted an answer from the man that she was giving some space to, and he could tell how deeply she missed him.

“You know…I think we should do something together, just us, like we used to, say fuck it and visit the lake for a day or something like that?” Otis offered, and she smiled softly at the comment, appreciating his efforts in a situation that often felt less than ideal.

“I’d like that, but maybe a little bit later, this month is very busy for the both of us.” She reminded, nibbling on the contents that she had made before sighing back into her chair

“Mom, you don’t need him, you’re independent and strong, and you are an amazing mother to me, he shouldn’t need this much time.” Otis frowned, growing quite frustrated with the Swedish handyman who, in his eyes, seemed extremely absent up until this point.

Jean wanted to relish his words, but she just felt a twisting of her lips along with the burning threat of tears behind her eyes. He meant well but the simple mention of Jakob and the situation she found herself in was enough to send her into a fit of tears.

“Thank you, Otis.” She managed while keeping her composure, the air somewhat tense now, but she took a beat and breath before continuing. “Also, I can be independent, but also want companionship.” She felt the need to clarify, her eyes finding her son’s who truly just didn’t understand fully what was going on.

“But I appreciate your sentiments.” She smiled half heartedly, in complete honesty, feeling quite drained from her emotionally charged day. The both of them silently went their separate ways for the night, Otis up to his new space in the attic after placing a careful kiss on Jean’s cheek, and her off to her bedroom where she let the door drift shut, the whole area feeling quite lonely. It was dark outside and the chilly air wafted in through her window, making an exasperated sigh come from her mouth as she shuffled towards it to draw it shut, picking out a new blush nightgown that she had recently purchased, the material extending past her knees, knowing full well that in a few months the tiny bump that was protruding from her body would grow into a massive one.

She slipped it on and noted the chilly nature of the house and how silent it was without the buzzing energy of her son on the other side of the wall. The thermostat sat in the middle of the hall and she crept towards it to turn the blowing air conditioning off, settling before poking her head over to shout a “good night” at the empty room out of habit, her voice echoing through the wood, realizing what she had just did.

She found herself creeping over, shutting the door behind her as she entered the vacant room, perching herself on one of the trunks that they had yet to move, a hand covering her mouth to keep any sound from coming out as tears began to build.

She let herself have that moment, shuddering quietly as the moon shone in, causing her to pull her turquoise robe tighter. She had imagined over and over what this new room would look like without the furniture and boyish decor that he had accumulated over the years, but her mind wouldn’t let her imagine anything but what it was when she had first purchased the house with her moronic husband at the time.

She had stained the walls that weren’t covered in forest green wallpaper, set up the crib and assembled the changing table with such care, and now trying to see it as anything else felt so incredibly difficult.

She had raised Otis on her own, and in her own opinion she had done well, there were minor hiccups along the way but no family was perfect, and she prided herself on her independence. She had been wary to find herself entranced with someone, to let that piece of her be seen after it had been so carelessly tossed away before, and she worried if that piece of her was starting to taint who she saw herself as.

She found herself crying harder, dropping her face into her hands as she sobbed silently, the slight chill sending a shiver up her spine, telling her that time for this was over and to get to bed.

She released a breath and hastily wiped her tears away with the pads of her fingers, getting up to stumble back to bed. The hallway was drafty and she poked her head out to feel the breeze coming from the staircase leading up to the attic. She frowned and hastily gathered the magenta quilt from her bed and lugged it into her arms, it’s weight quite large when all bundled up. 

Not wanting to wake him she found herself sneaking up the creaking stairs to find her son tucked tiredly under his own blankets, the window letting all of the chilly air in. She sighed and carefully spread it on top of him, making sure that every inch of him was warm before sliding the window shut.

She knew she should just return to bed and let him sleep, but she found herself perching on the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing his uncut hair from his face, sighing as a million thoughts ran through her head.

There was a silence, a peaceful stillness that she basked in, until she began to notice a twitching on her son’s face, noticing one of his eyes lifting open. She waited for him to flinch, but he just breathed out evenly and groggily stirred.

“What are you doing?” He yawned, quickly noticing the pink blanket that his mother had brought up and spread on top of him, her frame shaking from the temperature.

“I was just checking on you, and it’s so cold up here, I figured you would need this.” She shrugged, but he could see the puffiness of her eyes, and the moisture in her eyes, _she had been crying._ He frowned and sat up, carefully lifting the blanket for her to slip under, allowing the trapped warmth to momentarily thaw her.

He let her reach over and pull him close, nearly pulling his grown frame into his lap, her fingers brushing through his hair. He remained silent, letting her love on him a little extra tonight, he knew if he said anything she would just burst into another fit of tears, so he just laid there letting her arm cross his chest to hang onto him, the other one still rubbing his head tenderly.

“Are you okay mom? How are you feeling…physically?” He questioned to make conversation, aware of the growing abdomen that he felt pressing against his back, slightly worried that he was going to feel something move. She smiled at his effort and made sure he wasn’t facing her when she felt more tears fall, her eyelashes failing to blink them away.

“I’m fine, she moves a bit but you probably can’t feel it yet.” She whispered, focusing to keep her voice steady while referring to the fluttering that she constantly felt inside her.

He just shrugged, still worried and unsatisfied with that answer, however slightly relieved that he wasn’t going to feel an alien sensation move across his back while she held him tightly.

“I’m okay, mom. You don’t have to worry about me, or cry. I promise I’m just fine.” He reminded, his voice smaller than he had intended, but as he had partially expected, he could feel sobs expanding against him, these hormones really were a bitch.

“I’m always going to _worry_ about you, Otis. You’re my son, and that’s my job.” She cried, making him sigh and sit up, carefully hugging her tightly, her frame feeling so much smaller recently.

“I know, I just hate when you’re so sad like this, I don’t want you to worry.” He frowned, knowing that for a while he was such a prominent source for her worry, heartbreak, and frustrations.

“I love you so much.” He caught her whimpering, making him smile and pull away, offering her a tissue that she reluctantly took to blow her nose and wipe away some of her falling tears.

“I love you too, mom. Now get some sleep, I know _that one,”_ he motioned, poking his index finger against the surface of her stomach, “makes you tired, and now, apparently, a little weepy.” He smiled, making Jean chuckle through one of her cries, carefully sliding to her feet before heading off.


End file.
